


Hand You All My Trouble

by Miles_2_Go



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Drunk Tim Drake, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, POV Jason Todd, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Protective Jason Todd, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Red Robin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:27:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27626054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miles_2_Go/pseuds/Miles_2_Go
Summary: Tim is not having a good time. Reluctant big brother Jason to the rescue... reluctantly.--Jason had a sneaking suspicion about what state he’d find the kid in and it was confirmed when he came close enough to smell him. He sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in a manner that would have been way too Bruce-like. Drunk Tim Drake. This wasn't something Jason had ever expected to have to deal with.
Relationships: Tim Drake & Jason Todd
Comments: 28
Kudos: 458





	Hand You All My Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry I've been a bit off the map lately. All my writing plans went a bit whack, I've been having some health issues that have got me too freaked out to write while I'm waiting on a bunch of tests. Trying to pull myself out of this funk, so here's some angst. Kind of just thrown together, not revised as many times as I would like, but I wanted to post something.
> 
> Title is from Twenty One Pilots "The Run and Go".

The call came at three in the morning. Jason had actually been getting some decent sleep for once. He was still recovering from a minor stab wound and he’d taken a few nights off to recuperate.

So much for that.

He fumbled for the ringing phone on his nightstand and pressed it to his ear. It rang again, nearly blowing out his eardrum in such close proximity before he remembered to actually hit the accept button. He didn’t even check to see who was calling.

“What,” he grumbled.

“Jason?”

Jason opened his eyes a crack, a little more alert when he recognized the voice on the other end.

“Replacement?”

“Uh...sorry, y’know what, this was a bad idea. Sorry. Nevermind.”

Jason sat up, running his free hand through sleep-mussed hair. “You woke me up for this kid, you might as well tell me why you called. What’s wrong?”

“I just, uh...I’m really sorry. You were sleeping and you...you hate me anyway, I don’t know why I...Just. Sorry, Jason. Go back to sleep. It’s okay.”

Tim’s voice wasn’t exactly...he wasn’t exactly full-on  _ slurring, _ but his usual rich-boy Gotham accent was more lax than usual. “Are you drugged? Where are you?”

“No, no ‘m not…’m fine.”

“You’re not fine, kid. Tell me where you are.”

“I don’t...uh. I don’t...know exactly.”

Alarm bells were going off in Jason’s head.

“Are you in uniform? Where’s Bruce?”

“No, no it’s nothin’ like that. Bruce is off-world. He took the Titans on a training mission.”

Without Tim? That was weird. Did the Titans have a falling out?

“Are you outside? Locked in someone’s basement? Gimme some clues here, kid.”

“Sorry, I should...I’m not in trouble. It’s not a…’s not a  _ Bat _ thing. I’m sitting on a curb somewhere. Uh. There’s a street sign, but I can’t really...uh, read it. It’s...um. I think maybe Conway Street and 83rd?”

Jason cursed. “That’s deep in the Narrows, Timmers. Not a great place to be this late at night, alone, in civvies. What the hell are you doing?”

“Um.” Tim’s voice was small. It wavered a bit. “Can you...can you come get me, Jay?”

Jason sighed. The kid hadn’t really needed to ask. He had already gotten out of bed and shoved his feet into his boots and was currently digging around for his keys. “I’m coming.”

Jason didn’t have a car, only his motorcycle, so he hoped that whatever state the kid was in he would be able to hold his own on the bike. If not, Jason figured he could... _ borrow _ a car, but he hated the idea of leaving his bike in the Narrows.

He found Tim huddled on the corner of Conway and 83rd, exactly where he’d said he’d be. He was swimming in a blue hoodie that was way too big for him, expensive black skinny jeans getting sullied by the dirty Gotham sidewalk, and old, worn sneakers half trailing in an oily puddle. He was leaning on a darkened, broken streetlight wrapped in shadows.

Jason had a sneaking suspicion about what state he’d find the kid in and it was confirmed when he came close enough to smell him. He sighed and resisted the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in a manner that would have been way too Bruce-like. Drunk Tim Drake. This wasn't something Jason had ever expected to have to deal with.

Tim had looked up at the roar of Jason’s bike, but his eyes were on his feet when Jason swung his leg off the machine and made his way over.

“Heya, Timbo. Wanna tell me what’s going on?”

Tim still didn’t look up. He shrugged sullenly and shook his head, his mop of black hair swinging slightly against ears that had suddenly turned a bright enough red that Jason could even see it in the dark. “I just, um. Needed a ride.”

“And you called  _ me _ for that?” Jason raised an eyebrow. He had a feeling he knew what was going on here, but he thought it would be better for the kid to explain it himself.

“Well.” He plucked at frayed hoodie strings. “Dick’s in ‘Haven. Bruce’s in space. My friends are all in space. Didn’t wanna wake Alf.”

“I’m that far down your list? Geeze, Timbo, I’m hurt.” Jason snorted, pressing his hand to his chest in mock offense.

Tim did look up at that, eyes going wide in horror. “Oh! Um, well…”

“Relax, kid, it’s a joke. I don’t expect to be the top of your drunk-dial list, I’ve tried to kill you like four times.”

Tim’s face screwed up in thought. “Four?”

Jason shrugged. “There were a couple times you didn’t even know I was there.” He flashed white teeth and Tim rolled his eyes.

Jason plopped his butt down onto the disgusting curb next to the kid, bumping shoulders companionably.

“So wanna tell me what a twelve-year-old is doing drunk on a sidewalk at three in the morning?”

“I’m nineteen,” Tim grumbled maturely.

“Nineteen is not twenty-one,” Jason said pointedly.

Tim just gave him a look. “It’s the Narrows. And I have like six fake IDs.”

Jason narrowed his eyes. “This isn’t even your first time, is it?”

Tim snorted. “Can tell you were trained by the World’s Greatest Detective.”

“Little Timmy isn’t the perfect angel everyone thinks he is? Color me shocked. Seriously, though, kid. It’s a Tuesday. What’re we doing here?”

“Can we just...can we not talk about it?”

“Nope, sorry. You drag my ass out here in the middle of the night I get to at least hear why.”

Tim sighed. “I just...can’t always turn my brain off, is all. It’s not usually that bad, but lately, it’s just…” He shrugged, narrow shoulders barely visible in the loose fabric of the too-big hoodie.

“Why?”

“Why what?” 

Jason sighed, the picture of patience. “Why is it worse lately? Come on, spill.”

“Ra’s is back.” Tim’s voice was quiet.

The Demon Head’s name always sent a bit of a shiver through Jason. He had a lot of conflicted feelings regarding that family.

“Back? What do you mean.”

“He was...gone, for a while. From my life, anyway. Hadn’t heard from him for years. Not since I kinda...destroyed his whole network.”

That’s right. The kid had dealt the League a pretty hard blow a couple years back, when everyone thought Bruce was dead except for Detective Timmy.

“So what, you’re afraid he’s coming after you?” That wasn’t like Tim. Being fearless was kind of a requirement in their line of work, and Tim Drake had always taken that a bit  _ too _ far. He’d never shown any signs of being afraid of Ra’s before, even when he definitely should have.

Jason could see Tim hesitating. He waited. “He already has.”

_ “What? _ What happened?”

Tim stuck a hand in his hoodie pocket and fished around. His hand came out clutching something Jason couldn’t quite see in the dark. Tim held it out to Jason and he took it.

A scrap of lavender fabric. Velvet-soft, smelling distinctly of perfume, something musky and exotic.

“I found that on my pillow. In my apartment. My bed. He was in my apartment, Jay.”

“What is this?”

“I never learned her name. But I know that smell. That cloth is from her cloak. They’re playing with me.  _ In my apartment, Jay.” _

“You gotta help me out here, kid, I’m lost. You’re talking about a woman, but I thought we were talking about Ra’s?”

“It’s him, I know it’s him." He was rambling now, words more frantic, consonants a bit softer, vowels loose. "Ra’s wants...he’s obsessed with me. He wanted me to be his heir, but I betrayed him. Now he jus' wants...he wants me to  _ give _ him an heir. With his sister. She...in Paris two years ago she almost…she had me chained up and she was gonna...she...”

The contents of Jason’s stomach curdled and his knuckles turned white as he gripped the cloth in his fist. The idea of anyone doing something like  _ that _ to dorky, over-caffeinated, too-smart-for-his-own-good,  _ innocent _ then-17-year-old Tim Drake made Jason’s trigger finger  _ itch. _

He stared at the kid. Tim was looking at his feet again, rubbing the tip of one of his sneakers down the side of his other shoe nervously, chewing on one of his hoodie strings. His gaze was distant, trapped in memories he should never have to re-live.

Jason sighed and stuffed the cloth into his own coat pocket.

"So naturally you decided the wisest course of action was to become impaired in a public place and then wander alone into the dark."

Tim’s eyes shot up to Jason’s face. He let the hoodie string drop and tilted his head until it was resting on the pole of the darkened street lamp. “Guess so,” he mumbled.

Jason rolled his eyes. “For someone so smart, you sure have the dumbest sense of self-preservation.” His gaze sharpened. “Or do you do shit like this on purpose? Is that it?”

Tim’s eyes widened for a moment, then he blinked and looked away. “I’m not suicidal, Jason.”

“Are you sure? ‘Cause I’m not seeing a lot of proof of that here, kid.”

“I’m  _ not,” _ he stressed. “I just...I don’t know why I did it. I know it was stupid. I guess...I mean I’m supposed to be able to take care of myself, right? I was trained by the best, I’m supposed to  _ be _ the best. I shouldn’t have to worry about what monsters are lurking around dark corners because  _ I’m _ supposed to be the one  _ saving _ people from the monsters. But if Cass hadn’t... hadn't swooped in to rescue  _ me…” _

Jason closed his eyes tiredly, trying to gather his thoughts. “Kid...everyone needs to be saved sometimes. I know you know that. That applies to you, too. You don't need to prove anything.”

“I  _ know _ that, I just...I’m  _ scared, _ Jay. I wasn’t scared like this before. But they were in my apartment. In my bed. What if I can’t fight them? What if no one’s there to stop her this time?” His breath hitched, voice cracking as he spoke and Jason almost felt like he should be looking away. Sober Tim would never let himself be this vulnerable around anyone, much less Jason.

“This is probably hypocritical of me, but I think I should take you back to the Manor. You’ll be safer there than in your apartment until we can figure this out.”

Tim swiped a hand over his wet eyes, squaring his shoulders as he tried visibly to pull himself together. “‘We’?”

Jason rolled his eyes. “It’s a figure of speech.”

Tim hummed a wordless sound that clearly translated to  _ Sure, Jason, whatever you say.  _ "I don’t know how much safer the Manor will be. Alfred is the only one there, now," he said.

Jason sighed and tilted his head, conceding the point. “As scary as Alf can be, he’s not a match for Ra’s, I’ll give you that. But the Cave is secure, it’s the safest place, Timbo. You can hunker down there until Bruce is back from space. Then  _ we,"  _ He rolled his eyes again. He was getting soft. "Can work out a plan. Together.” The corner of his mouth lifted in a smirk and he felt vindicated when Tim’s lifted to match.

“Will you come, too? Stay until Bruce is back?”

Jason’s eyebrows shot up at the kid’s audacity. “Really? Me stay at the Manor? You think I’d ever say yes to that?”

Tim shrugged. “You don’t have to stay at the Manor. We can stay in the Cave.”

“The Cave. Where bats poop,” he deadpanned.

Tim sighed and sniffed. “I’d feel safer,” he said quietly.

Safer. With  _ Jason. _ This kid was nuts.

“Even though you tried to kill me. Four times. I’d still feel safe with you.” He sniffed again, staring at his feet as he continued to rub his sneakers together. 

Jason narrowed his eyes. “Are you...are you trying to  _ play _ me right now, Timothy?”

Tim batted wet eyelashes at him. “No Jay. You’re just my big brother and I w—”

“Oh my god, stop stop  _ stop. _ Jesus. Get your scrawny, drunk ass up, you little shit. How long am I gonna be stuck in that place? When is Bruce supposed to come back?”

“They should be back in a week.” The corners of Tim's eyes crinkled mischievously.

“I hate you," Jason growled with only a little heat.

As Jason walked and Tim stumbled back to Jason’s bike, Jason’s steps slowed to a halt and he turned to look at Tim. He held a hand out to steady him as Tim came to an unsteady stop.

“Were you telling the truth?" Jason asked, his tone serious. "About what happened? You weren’t just lying to make me feel sorry for you?”

The satisfied twinkle that had sparked in Tim’s eyes at having successfully manipulated Jason faded a bit and he swallowed dryly, nodding.

Jason ground his teeth. “I’m gonna kill him.”

Tim stumbled closer to Jason, closing his eyes briefly and leaning heavily against Jason's shoulder. He huffed tiredly.

“Thanks, Jay.”

**Author's Note:**

> Points to whoever can figure out the significance of the street names where Jason found Tim.
> 
> Please leave a comment if you liked this fic, I need some nice words.


End file.
